Simplicity
by mandmeight
Summary: "Lily felt the ghost of James hand slip away and replace in her mind with Severus, comparing the two almost idly." In Lily's life she had two great loves. One of them was impossible and painful, the other...?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: Motherhood

* * *

"Women are aristocrats, and it is always the mother who makes us feel that we belong to the better sort." -John Lancaster Spalding

* * *

"Come on boys, we have to get to the dinner," Walburga Black instructed her two boys from the gaping doorway. Her husband, Orion Black, had been invited along with the rest of the family to a Minister of magic coronation. The previous Minister, Nobby Leach, had been a very progressive wizarding leader. This is why Walburga was happy to see him out of office. He had not fulfilled his duty to support a pure-blood community in an increasingly muggle world. Luckily, the wizard Orion campaigned for had been elected to office.

Earnesto Villar, a high-ranking pure-blood from Spain, had dazzled England's wizarding community with his promise to maintain order and security without the high cost of too many alterations in society. After being chosen to replace Leach he had promised to throw a coronation dinner for all his supporters. Her family had been preparing all day for this dinner, Orion had been preparing all year.

Walburga reflected idly on her husband's ability to make an impression with the right people. Tonight he was dressed in black silk robes with a fringe of gold around the sleeves. The taste level was perfection. He would neither outshine the new minister, nor misrepresent the wealth of his family.

Hopefully her dress robes and Orion's would not juxtapose. Unlike her husband, she preferred to dress maturely. Orion could afford to dress like a dashing young wizard; she had to uphold the reputation of sophistication with age. A long time ago, when she had attended the coronation of Angela Spavin with her fiancée—now husband—she had worn a low cut and shimmery gown designed to showcase both her body and evolution as a woman. She had neither the liberty nor the body to wear such a beautiful piece today.

"Mother," her younger, darling, son tugged on the fabric around her thigh, "Will we see Bella and Cissy at the corn-in-ation?"

"Coronation," she corrected sharply, softening when she saw him worry around the eyes, "Yes, your cousins will be sitting at our table."

"What about Andromeda?" Her older son asked, positioned confidently.

Walburga surveyed her son for a moment; she was wondering what had gone wrong. He was as handsome as his father and brother, and as intelligent, but his attitude was unfortunate. Just last weekend she had been explaining to her close friend and cousin, Araminta Meliflua, how badly her nine-year-old son had turned out. Araminta had touched her shoulder consolingly, "He has all the right ingredients to make you a proud mother. You won't know if he is doomed to fail until he reaches Hogwarts. He is a Black, after all, so give him more time before casting your judgment."

Sirius stood about four and a half feet high with cropped short hair. One of the house-elves had taught him to cut it on his own with scissors and he had taken advantage of that knowledge. Walburga preferred her son to have longer locks to show off the thick brown hair that all the Black's were notorious for. It was as if he had intentionally sabotaged her by trimming it unfashionably short.

A startlingly picture of sober civility, he had picked out his shabbiest set of robes and stood, calmly before her, asking if he would see his most troublesome cousin.

"Andromeda has been grounded by her parents for disobedience." Besides all her childish household pranks, Andromeda had committed the greatest of all possible errors and had been admitted into Gryffindor instead of Slytherin like her dutiful sisters. She was sort of a family pariah; disregarded by her own dear mother and father. "She will not be attending the coronation."

"Then I don't want to go," Sirius stated simply.

"No! Come, Sirius, please?" Regulus pleaded. Her youngest son had a deep affection for his brother that couldn't be diminished by his deviant behavior.

"It is just a stupid formality. Mother wants us to come so she can show off her two well behaved sons. As I do not qualify as well behaved I should stay home. Both mother and I will benefit from that decision." Sirius slipped his hands into his pockets, cocking his eyebrows at her.

Walburga scowled, turning to locate her husband. "Orion, your son suggests that we leave him at home."

"Unacceptable. I want both my sons to meet and converse with the minister. Villar might want to hire them someday for a position in the ministry," Orion appeared behind her, placing a firm hand on her lower back. She sank into his weight, safe in the feeling that he was here to control the situation. Despite this trend of disrespect, Sirius seemed to bear the authority of his father. He at least acknowledged the superiority of Orion's position. "You will come, and you will behave like the well-bred young wizard you are, do you understand me?"

"Yes, father," Sirius was sullen.

Walburga glanced up in time to see Orion giving their oldest son a disdainful once over, "We are going to be late, because Sirius is going to have to change into something more appropriate." As Sirius began to move rigidly toward the stairs Orion cleared his throat, "Hold still a moment boy, I am not through with you." He unsheathed his wand and flicked it.

Sirius's head streamed glossy brown in a waterfall of hair that hung past his ears. He fingered it in horror, apparently recognizing himself thwarted. Walburga smiled; she did not need to show off his attitude tonight, just his princely looks.

Approximately fourteen and 1/5 kilometers away from The Black Residence on Grimmauld place, the Coronation was beginning and the Potters had taken their seat at the table. William Potter and his wife, Rebecca Potter, had supported the new minister with a great sum of money during the campaign. They had subsequently been placed at a table towards the middle of the stage. Normally the Potters would not be involved in politics, but it had been a strange year for the bank and it was in William's best interest to support the candidate who was least likely to revolutionize the entire banking process.

Their only son, James, had dressed himself up as if he were twice his age. Rebecca glanced over at him with pride. In March, on his birthday, James had been given a multitude of presents. He evidently favored a chunky gold watch that his Grandfather had passed down to him. Tonight, it peeked out of the sleeves of his robes, glittering obstinately in the flickering torch light.

"You look so handsome," she informed him, "You must be the handsomest boy in the whole room."

Her son blushed, smiling at her, "You're obligated to say that."

"No!" Rebecca crossed her heart, "I'm obligated to say that to your father. Calling you handsome is a statement of fact." She leaned forward and kissed him on both baby-soft cheeks.

"Hey, where is my love? I'm the one that scored us these great seats," William argued, "All he did was show up here with us."

"I suppose you do get some kisses," Rebecca mused, "You did help raise this handsome and intelligent boy."

"'Help raise' you say! I raised him almost entirely on my own. Who taught him to do arithmetic and summoning spells…" William stopped, his face frozen in trepidation.

Both Rebecca and James laughed, and Rebecca leaned forward to kiss him straight on, "Don't think you're revealing some big secret. There are only three of us in the house and I certainly didn't teach our son how to zoom breakable objects around the living room."

Her husband stuck out his tongue.

"EARNESTO, is this your wife? I don't think we've been introduced!" The three Potters turned their heads towards the group near the stage.

"Walburga and Orion are here," Rebecca pointed out. "Oh, and there are their sons. I don't see anything wrong with her oldest, the way she's been talking about him you'd think he was an invalid."

"Yes well, we won't see much of them tonight." Her husband winced; Orion had just let out a booming laugh.

"What are you talking about?" Rebecca waved her wand at the table cards until they stood straight in a line, "We're sitting at the Black Family Table. Don't you remember me telling you about the conversation I had with Walburga and Araminta the other day? They were 'ecstatic' to meet my family at the coronation."

"Oh, right, the school board meetings."

"I'm not part of the school board, Will, I'm part of the 'concerned mother committee'. Mostly I joined to make sure that Araminta doesn't ban books containing references to Muggle literature, you know that."

"Hmph," He yawned.

"Dad just doesn't like you spending time with other people. He wants you all to himself," James stuck his chin in his cupped hands, wrinkling his nose at the both of them.

"I always knew you were a smart one." William leaned over and ruffled his hair.

"Well anyway, I'm curious to meet Walburga's older son. She talks about him like he's a madman. You know that whatever Walburga considers mad has to be a good thing."

Her husband slid his arm around the back of her chair, "Fortify yourselves family, Walburga and her sons' are on the move."

"Rebecca, William, you made it," Walburga was approaching, circling the table like a shark with bun of brown hair as rigid as a fin straddling her skull. James rose and held out his hand, intercepting her. "And who is this? Oh! Is this your son? I have heard many wonderful things about you from your mother."

James shook her hand and bowed slightly, "Mom has said many wonderful things about you as well. It is a pleasure to finally meet you." He gazed calmly into her cool blue eyes.

Walburga was a stately woman, with a defined and handsome face. It was impassive of emotions, but she liked to overact in order to give the impression of the emotions her face did not show, "I am delighted! What a polite boy you are, very well raised. You should meet my son Sirius and give him some instructions." Her laugh was cool and smooth as she side-stepped him to greet his parents.

James snorted quietly and turned to the two boys behind her. They were around the same height, a tiny bit taller than him. The older one was frowning pointedly and holding himself upright like a flagpole. The younger was curious and a bit eager looking. His attention was directed elsewhere. Before James could hold out his hand in greeting, he had jolted suddenly, exclaimed: "Cissy and Bella!" and run towards the door.

The first brother did not even turn to look in his brother's direction. "Name's Sirius. Nice to meet you," he said, unconvincingly.

"Nice to meet you," James cheered, extending his hand, "I'm James Potter! I'm sure your mum has talked about me."

Now he had his full attention. A smile skated across Sirius's face like the dance of a lightning bolt before disappearing, "If I listened to my mother I might be able to confirm that. As I do not, you can be assured that I have no idea who you are outside of your declaration."

James laughed, "Well then I should have told you I was Earnesto Villar, maybe you would have been impressed to meet the Minister."

"Hah, indubitably." He took a hand and ran it through his hair, relaxing from his steely stance. "Unfortunately for you, I have already been introduced to Earnesto Villar, so I would have been confused rather than impressed. Since I have heard many adjectives ascribed to this minister over the previous weeks, none of which were: short or young, I would have had to disregard your introduction as delusional."

James dropped his hand down to a low five, "Nicely put."

Sirius cocked his eyebrows at the hand and glanced upwards, genuinely befuddled. "What do you want?"

"A low five? You know; like the muggles do after their sports victories?"

"I haven't been exposed to anything…muggle." Sirius ran a hand through his hair again, "Are you sure your parents are friends with my parents?"

"Not exactly," James admitted in a whisper, "But I hope that doesn't mean we can't be friends. You're my age, right?"

"I don't know, I can't just estimate age by looking at a person," Sirius pointed out incredulously, whispering also. He had leaned in, flabbergasted and intrigued by the character of this new acquaintance. "I'm nine, how old are you?"

"Nine!" James held out his hand again, but dropped it when he received the same original reaction, "Here I'll show you how to give a low-five. You hold out your hand."

Sirius pulled his hand out of his pocket with increasing hesitation, his eyes narrowing with concentration. Suddenly James smacked down.

*SMACK*.

"OW! WHAT'D YOU DO THAT FOR?" Sirius jumped forward and grabbed the collar of James's robe, his throbbing hand curled in a fist.

"Shhh," James put his finger up to his lips, motioning with wide-eyes to the conversing parents. "That's how you do it! Here you can try with me!"

James held out his hand as Sirius dropped the Robe collar. It was at this point that Sirius grinned evilly.

*SMACK*

James held his tingling hand up to eye level, an astounded look on his face. The silence stretched on for an uncomfortably long time and Sirius tensed up for a fight.

Then James exploded.

"THAT WAS A BLOODY BRILLANT LOW FIVE! You nearly took my hand off!"

"You're insane," Sirius whispered, smiling despite it. Then his smile deepened, "Low five?"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Memories

* * *

_"No wonder the moon in the window seems to have drifted__  
__out of a love poem that you used to know by heart. " __  
__[Forgetfulness. Billy Collins.] _

_

* * *

_

"He's our son, Randolph, that's why I'm worried!"

Remus shuffled his books into his book bag, squaring his shoulders like he did whenever he felt stressed out. For the previous two weeks his father had been whistling again. At first everyone had been excited, but now his mother had developed a habit of scowling whenever a tune-happy father stepped into the room.

He could barely remember his childhood except for the whistling. His father had done it when he was angry, content, and blindingly happy. After_ that day_ the whistling had stopped. It appeared as if Randolph had pursed his mouth shut too long and the music had collected inside of him, cracking and wrinkling him with the internal pressure.

Two weeks ago the whistling had started. When his mother had inquired as to its causation she had received the answer: "'Remus is getting an education!'" This answer, improbable as it was, was coupled with a "handwritten" note from Dumbledore asking for Remus to show up to Hogwarts a week early for a "surprise."

"Darling, you look wonderful today. Why be worried?" Randolph whistled and kissed her on the top of her mousy brown head. "Remus, are you packed?"

"You're getting his hopes up," Angela Lupin hissed, "I don't know what madness led you to write that horrible letter and forge Dumbledore's signature, but you are not going to disappoint Remus. He has been through too much."

"Tsk," Randolph waved away the venom in her voice, smiling at her like she were his child as well, "After today, everything is going to alright again!"

Remus thought that this analysis was a bit illogical. It didn't matter where he was educated, every month he would still transform into a monster. Nothing would be "alright" ever. Hogwarts was like a dream, though. He doubted his father's sanity, but he couldn't help wondering if Hogwarts (if he was actually accepted) would give him a second chance.

"I'm ready dad. How are we going to get there?" His suitcase was packed with his nicest clothes; including the robes which were among the supplies that his smug father had bought from him in Diagon Ally as a present.

"Remus, you don't have to go with him." His mother bent down to his eye level and laced her fingers through his hair. Her forest green eyes were blurred like mist through the pines. "Even if this turns out to be real, you can still stay here. I already said I would home school you."

"I need to know." Remus put his forehead against hers and rubbed them together. This was a sign of affection he hadn't adopted until after being bitten, "If I don't go I'll miss the chance to be normal."

"You won't be normal," she whispered, a tear dripped over her top lip into the front of his robes, "You don't have to be normal and the ones that love you will love you anyway."

"But I want friends," he argued, "and I want a chance to be integrated into society."

"Hah," She smiled at the word choice. She had given him the definition to the word 'integrated' less than a month ago, "Society can go to hell. Your father was part of society; see how it treated him." Angela gestured to Randolph, who was humming and swaying in the doorway.

As if aware that all eyes were on him, he sputtered to a halt and glanced over, "Come on son, the portkey won't wait forever…well, at least Dumbledore won't."

"Don't go." Angela murmured, pulling him into a hug, "it's safe here."

"It's never safe where I am." Remus tugged away, looking to his father, "I'll write to you from Hogwarts."

The portkey sat in the front lawn. It was a garden gnome, perfectly inconspicuous though rather unattractive, resting against the front gate. The lawn was browned and droopish, leading the way into a slumped flat that had, at one point, been marketed as a modern architectural masterpiece. The real estate witch who had sold it to Mrs. And Mr. Lupin had explained that although the house was very spacious on the inside; it appeared compact and quaint from the outside. This was her main selling point. Angela, who at that point was pregnant with Remus, warmed up to the feel of the neighborhood she would later grow to loath. It was not a wizarding community, but a muggle one. Randolph used to work for the department of mysteries at the Ministry and he wanted a low profile home that was hard to locate and track. All three (four if you include Remus) parties in the transaction went home satisfied with the purchase.

Ten years later the house and its inhabitants slouched under the weight of the present circumstances. Randolph had been disgraced from the ministry for publishing confidential information. He had written a piece anonymously that dealt with the danger of a certain Werewolf, Fenrir Greyback, who was a high profile member of society. Fenrir had been, secretly, turning wizarding children into werewolves for the underground dark magic movement. The ministry was aware of this and had chosen not to make it public as to not disturb the population at large. Deeply disturbed, Randolph had disregarded all his confidentiality agreements and distributed the information. Since there was such a low level of access, it had been obvious that he had been the one who had leaked it. He was dismissed from his position, and the ministry had published a counter article stating that all claims in the previous article had been false. The damage had been done. Anti-Werewolf measures began to be written and Fenrir had found very little credibility in the ministry.

Bitter and bloodthirsty, his idea of revenge was to turn Randolph's six-year-old son into the very creature the public found so horrifying. Angela had told Remus the story; but, he could not remember being turned. He could recall life before he had been bitten and life after. When he was a six-year-old, his parents had to create barrier charms in the woods for him. As a small werewolf, he would roam within the confines of the woods but would not be able to go home until he had dissolved into his human form. Now he regulated everything, travelling far into the brush behind the village and surviving the agonizing transformation without any protection.

How would he handle transformations at Hogwarts? Was there a broom-closet he could settle inside until the moon melted out of the sky?

"Remus?" His father beckoned him to the fence. Remus sighed and held out his hand. He had used a portkey once with his father and mother when he was five, and the feeling rang through him like a flavor he could taste on the back of his tongue. This time was different. There was more of him to transport and he had developed some strain of motion sickness. When they landed he felt sick and heavy.

"Oh dear," Randolph hopped on one foot to the other and bent to help Remus stabilize.

"Portkeys are devilish annoyances," an observer noted gravely, "though inalterably useful to the contemporary wizard when traveling to places impossible to plot on a map."

The stranger was lanky beneath overflowing and richly decorated blue starred robes. His hair hung silvery white in the dulled sunlight, and he peered down at them, tall and poised, through a pair of half-mooned spectacles.

"Albus, how good to see you," Randolph rushed forward, eager as an Aethonon faced with a wide field, and clasped the strangers hand.

Albus Dumbledore was old, but he had youthful eyes. They stared past Randolph to his cowed and slouching son with a bright and penetrating gaze. "Is this your son?"

"Yes! He turned eleven in March, but you would think he was older the way he keeps growing."

"Randolph," Dumbledore started, calmly.

"Yes?"

"It's time."

"Yes, sir," Jovially, Randolph walked over to the portkey, "Remus, don't forget to write home every weekend."

"You're leaving?" Remus dropped his arms in exasperation.

He was nervous to face this white-haired stranger alone, and would have preferred his father stay for a longer amount of time. It didn't make sense, but he was also resentful about being left there because he felt like his presence was entrapment in the first place.

"I got to kiddo. I love you. Stay strong." He left no time for Remus to reply as he collected the portkey into his arms and spun into the clouds.

Remus dropped his head to survey his luggage. There wasn't much to survey so he turned his attention to the trees. Trees didn't hold his interest so he moved his focus to the path leading up to the school gates of Hogwarts.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, "Remus Lupin, My name is Albus Dumbledore. As you might know I am the headmaster at Hogwarts. My primary concern in this administrative position is to maintain the safety and security of the students that attend this illustrious school." Remus squelched in the dirt. This was the part where he would be told that he was not accepted after all. He wasn't safe; he would put everyone into jeopardy. "However, when it came to my attention that your attendance to this school was being called into question we brainstormed about ways to remedy the situation at hand."

"We?" He squeaked. It appeared as if the headmaster was leading to something fortuitous rather than unfortunate.

"Oh, forgive me, by 'we' I meant the professors and I. Professor sprout and professor McGonagall especially have been interested in the planning of a transformation space that allows you and your peers safety and distance. You see, we have procured a very rare breed of plant for our sprawling grounds: the Whomping Willow. The tree has been hollowed out to create a passageway that will lead you into a room where you might find space to spend your transformation period."

Remus heated up with excitement, it all felt too good to be true.

"Follow me, please."

Remus complied, watching the edges of Dumbledore's Robes slide along the dirt. They were as clean and shimmery as a unicorn. In fact, Remus had seen a unicorn once while he was running through the woods with fur and bloodlust. The creature had held him there, even in his derangement, mesmerized by its strong white flanks. He recognized the eyes as they glanced up at him, unwaried by the danger he represented. They were innocent, and sure in his equal purity. Creatures like that, unicorn and men alike, were born to see only the world as it fit inside their own mind. They trusted the world as they trusted themselves, implicitly, and could not be swayed to the cynicism that existed outside their character.

"What is a Whomping Willow?" He heard himself ask.

"It is a plant that has magical properties which allow it to defend itself very successfully." Remus thought he detected amusement in Dumbledore's voice, but it didn't last long enough to be noticeable, "Your residency will be painful," The amusement, if it had existed, was gone. Dumbledore turned to face him with a hard look, probing him for a response, "You may injure yourself during this time, but Madame Pomfrey, our school nurse, will be on hand to mend you after your time of trial has passed."

"I understand." And he did. Pain could not be avoided, whether through the transformation process or through self mutilation. He had come to understand pain as a necessary but short-lived evil.

"I am sorry that you understand," Dumbledore rejoined, after leading him through the brush towards a carriage without horses, "Some wizards go through their lives without understanding pain. There are those who will say that pain is needed to appreciate pleasure, but still, pain is pain."

Dumbledore hopped unto the carriage and held out his hand.

"We are going to it now?" Remus asked, to stall, if possible, the inevitable.

He took the elder's man hand. It was cold and dry, and tensed under his weight.

"Come now, the future is here." This prophetic remark, candidly philosophical, was accompanied by a quirk of an ironic smile, "or so they say."

Remus stepped onto the carriage, staring into the dark forest as they began to move forward into its depth.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: Education

* * *

A mind once stretched by a new idea never regains its original dimensions.  
- Anonymous

* * *

If Peter Pettigrew had a mind capable of metaphorical thought, he might have compared his mother to an antique mirror, draped with scarves and jewels. Yet, he rarely thought of her as anything more than a fact. When he was young and satiated, spoiled and pampered, she was an endless source of wealth. Then, the perfume that clung to her garments far after she had removed them filled him with a sense of calm. Whenever he smelled the flowery scent in a room, she was sure to be there, with hands full of candies or pasties. There was his mother, always there, and sometimes there was a man. Peter did not contemplate this; it was fact. Her existence, and the existence of her everchanging cast of boyfriends, was the only truth he could be sure of.

"Peter, darling," His mother was heralding him from the top of the swirling steps.

They lived in a four bedroom apartment with a set of steps that occupied the center of the entrance corridor. His mother treated the steps like a soap box, calling down them to suitors and her son, allowing her voice to echo grandly in the space.

"Yes?" His voice didn't echo, it held still in front of him, dropping stubbornly to the ground like a marble slab.

"Darling, he's coming here!" Patricia was panicked. "Did you play with Mommy's scarves again?"

Peter blushed. He had been caught two years ago swaddled in a mass of perfumy scarves, now his mother would forever credit him with her misplaced finery.

"No!" He responded, at a loss of words to defend his lack of desire to steal her scarves.

"It is a special one I am looking for," She explained, coming down the stairs, "A mossy green one that matches Mommy's eyes. It was from her dear friend Earnesto, who is coming to visit. I need that scarf!"

Peter strained to comprehend her words. He found it immensely confusing when she switched from first person to third person. "I don't know where it is."

"Peter, dear, this is very important." She had reached the lower steps. Even if he were blind he could have smelled her approaching. Her eyes held him, wide and worried, beneath diamond crusted reading glasses. She wore these glasses even though Peter had never seen her reading. Once, when he had asked about them, she told him they had been given to them by the King of England. She only took them off to sleep.

Her lips were pink and red, puckered around a silver pen that she held in her left hand. She gnawed at it as he grappled for a reply.

"Mum, I don't know where your scarf is."

"OH!" She dashed forward, dropping the pen on the floor, "Oh there it is! Thank you so much for your help. Oh my smart boy, you are my lucky charm."

She tiptoed up the stairs with the scarf twisted around her arm. Peter stared after her, unsure whether to pick up the pen or leave it for her "dear friend" to find and deliver to her. He knew his mother had a certain intentional negligence that she played for the sake of her suitor's egos, though he would never phrase it quite like that. He might say 'she likes to play dumb' if he were feeling mean, or, if he were complimenting her he would say 'she knows what she is doing.'

The door shook as the knocker was employed. Peter looked down at his own outfit, remembering idly that he had dressed this morning (which seemed like a long time ago) in Wizards robes.

"Peter! Will you please open the door for our guest?" His mother commanded with a question.

He moved towards the door, curious and a bit excited to meet his mother's 'dear friend' who he knew by the uncommon name had to be the Minister of Magic. How his mother had met the Minister… it had to have been a matter of time. Her male and female friends sat in the desks of every section of the ministery.

He opened the door to admit a willowy couple. The man had an angled face, softened only by the hint of a moustache, and the woman, obviously his wife, clung to his arm like a sparkling ornament on a tree. She had brown hair that hung down past her waist, pleated with gold clutches, and an impassive face, set in the frown of a statue.

He held her in his thoughts for a while as he offered to put their coats away. It was a strange night that his mother was entertaining a married couple entering through the front door. Usually only men visited the house for dinner, and they usually used the floo network to get there.

"My mother is upstairs preparing herself," He explained as he put their coats in the closet. They were matching fur coats, and a heavy burden to bear for a small boy. "Will you follow me to the dining room?"

"No need," Patricia was floating down the stairs, wearing a brown wizards cloak that he had seen once crumpled in the corner of her closet. Her neck was warmed with the scarf-present she had been frantically searching for earlier. "OH, Rosa, what a beautiful dress!" She remarked, smiling in a sad way at Earnesto's wife.

His mother was up to something, but he hadn't figured it out. The dress was beautiful, certainly, but he could remember a dress that had its general proportions in her closet upstairs.

"Thank you very much," Rosa replied

"I have prepared the dinner myself, no magic!" Patricia whisked them into the dining room with a windmill hand movement.

"Well, that's quaint." Earnesto held his wife's arm dutifully as they entered the room. It was quite an unnecessary gesture and she allowed it with a limp complacency, looking less gloomy then she had when she had entered.

Four hours and three courses later, Peter stood to carry the plates to the sink. His mother waved at him to sit, her face flushed at a joke he hadn't heard. This had been a boring dinner; a conversation of economics and politics had flourished while his consciousness dwindled. After falling asleep, and dropping his head into a stack of peas, he had resorted to arranging said peas into strange shapes on his plate to remain awake.

Patricia, at least, was enjoying herself. This wasn't surprising as his mother had a certain knack of enjoying herself in anyone's company—if she felt like it.

"Show us that clever plate cleaning spell you picked up in Hawaii," Patricia instructed Rosa, smiling at Earnesto like a partner in crime.

Rosa complied, waving her wand at the dishes and directing their flying path towards the sink, where they proceeded to wash themselves. Peter sat back, contemplating the situation. His mother had gotten this woman, who had clearly disliked her at the beginning of the night, to obey her by buttering her up. The power his mother wielded was infinite. Then it struck him.

He could wield it too.

Long after he was dismissed to his room, so that the guests might discuss business with his mother, he stared out the window at the orange-gray horizon. He felt wonderful, euphoric. The color settled in his chest, warm as the distant light of dusk. He had always admired the power his mother held, and soon he would be a force to admire. He imagined an invisible audience, praising his epiphany with a chorus of affirmation. Peter and Power, the two words were similar. They both started with P, ended with ER, and contained the same amount of letters. He chuckled. This must have been how his mother had been feeling. He remembered one night, not so long ago, he had seen her give a secret smile.

He couldn't understand it then, but now as his lips spread out to grant his teeth the limelight—he understood.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

**Part One: Loss and Gain**

P.O.V. Lily

* * *

"Sometimes we lose friends for whose loss our regret is greater than our grief, and others for whom our grief is greater than our regret."- François de la Rochefoucauld

* * *

Lillian Evans sat alone in the train compartment, chewing her nails. It was a nasty yet necessary habit, because it diverted her mind from more unpleasant things. Right now she was trying to forget that she had just lost her best friend for the very same reason she was sitting on this train right now: magic.

Petunia, her older sister, had been her best friend since birth. She knew this because her parents had pictures to prove it. She had been swaddled in hospital blankets and carried out by her sister, a proud and chattering tour guide.

Lily's first word had even been "Pa'Tun!" She smiled as she recalled a dinner when Petunia had cheerfully brought this up at least four times to make a point. Cheerful, smiling, Petunia was a sight to behold. Her hair was spun silk blonde that she liked to wear in a crisp Ballet Bun, a testament to their pre-school dance lessons, and when she was animated she would pull her hair out of the bun and shake it out, letting it capture the light. Her blue eyes crinkled when Lily would suggest they pull a prank—which was a frequent occurrence—and her slight overbite gave her an enviable dimple that Lily would stare at sometimes, envious.

Petunia… Lily clasped her hands to stop the nail-biting as she considered the implications of losing her; she was losing the friend not the sister. There would be no more late night cuddling, no more party planning, no more comic book reading, or Sunday morning cartoons. Well, all these things existed, but they couldn't interest her without Petunia.

Though, now that she was thinking about it, she came to the sad realization that she had been losing her sister's love over the course of time. It had all started with Severus Snape coming in and insulting Petunia—telling her she wasn't special. After that, Petunia began to hang out with friends from school. She was on the Cheerleading Squad but she hadn't devoted as much time to it before the incident as she did afterwards. She came home with these snooty—well they weren't too bad, though they had high pitched voices—friends. Lily had been immensely jealous and decided that she would just do better then Petunia in school, as that would show her! But the week of the report cards, the letter came. Petunia was upset at first, but the advent of the report cards brought an onslaught of parental adoration. Lily did not mind being admired, but the look on Petunia's face was so similar to her own after the cheerleading squad hang out, that she ended up apologizing profusely for it.

"What are you apologizing for?" Petunia had scoffed, "You obviously earned it."

Despite her words, she was still hurt. Lily tried everything to make it up to her—secret "I love you" parties, cards full of reminders of the good times they had spent together, apologizing, and self-depreciating comments. Nothing worked. She felt so guilty she spent two nights up in the dark, watching the moon, paralyzed with the overwhelming emotion.

And now, she was traveling into a world that had a stone wall set in place to block people like her parents and sister from entering, literally. People like her—witches and wizards—did not welcome "muggles" into their schools. Lily thought this was quite silly, as Muggles let Witches into their schools. She had told Petunia this, but had been met by an uncharacteristically scalding look. Her heart throbbed at the memory, it felt like her chest was tightening into a bruised mass of nerves.

The compartment door slid open and Severus walked in.

"Are you alright?" He asked, sitting beside her.

She wanted to confide in him, but he hated Petunia, he wouldn't understand.

"Just nervous," she managed a smile as he handed her a caldron cake from the cart. He was so thoughtful; at least they were still best friends. But then again, she was traveling into his world and out of the world of her sister.

"Listen…" He paused as she pulled down the wrapper and began to munch on the sweet cake. "There is nothing to be worried about."

His tone concerned her a moment and she was about to remark on it, but the sad look on his face stopped her short. It was the soft look of an adult at a funeral. He reached out and tugged on her hair.

"Hey!" She batted his hand away, sticking out her tongue, "who said you could touch my hair!"

He flushed, "oh, sorry, I didn't mean…" she interrupted him by reaching out and messing up his hair so that it obscured his surprised expression with a curtain of black.

"Gotcha'!" She switched seats so that she was out of range, just in case he launched a counter attack.

His laughter died out a few moments later when the compartment door opened. Two wizards about their age stood in the entranceway, surveying the compartment with interest. Lily observed them, curious. She hadn't known what to expect from a school full of witches and wizards. The only wizard she knew was Severus, so she had the mental image of a bunch of kids that looked just like him. Obviously wizard's ranged in looks as much as muggles did.

They were both taller, for one. The wizard to the left had a straight nose that stretched outwards below waves of coffee-black hair. He looked a child model from a magazine, down to the slightly bored look on his face. His friend was a bit shorter with an almost chocolate-brown mushroom hair cut. He was wearing large, thick framed glasses that had a pale blue tint- he dressed like a hippie. She wondered if maybe he was a muggle-born too.

"Hi," Said the hippie, "We heard that some fat cats were in this compartment and we wanted to join."

"No fat cats here," She waved at them to enter, "Just some down dudes." Both boys laughed, but Severus sat frozen. He was so bad with meeting new people. "My name is Lily Evans, and this is Severus Snape."

"James Potter," The hippie replied, holding out his hand. She shook it. He had a firm grip, and moist fingers. He leaned over her hand to kiss it, and she had a brief glimpse of long tilted eyelashes and the blue of dawn, lighter then the color of his glasses. His lips barely brushed smooth across the skin of her knuckle when he fell backwards.

Lily lost her balance and fell roughly in the seat, and by the time she had regained her balance all three boys had their wands out. Two of the three wands were pointed at Severus. One of the three wands was pointed at James. It took her about three seconds to figure out whose side she was on.

"Hey! Put the wand down," her wand was pointed straight at the heart of the boy who had been so friendly a moment earlier.

James held up his arms, smiling easily. "No big deal—Sirius let's just chill out."

"He needs to put his wand down." Sirius indicated Severus with a flick of his hand.

Severus looked at Lily. She nodded at him and he put the wand in his pocket. Sirius followed his lead, looking less bored but more grim then he had earlier.

"Should we leave?" James asked Lily, standing in indecision near the compartment entrance.

Lily glanced around him, gauging Severus's expression. He really did not like new people, and she did not want him to feel uncomfortable when he clearly disliked these two boys. He was her best friend, the only best friend she had left, and she wanted him to be happy.

"Yes," she tried to make her voice as unapologetic as she could.

"Whatever," Sirius said, exiting.

James seemed like he had more to say. He studied Lily for a while with a gaping melancholy, which she attributed to him losing his train of thought. But without a word, he, too, exited.

"What was that?" Lily asked.

"Sorry," Severus said. He ran a hand through his hair, parting the lines of darkness with his pale fingers, "I don't like them."

"What's not to like?"

"His family and my mom…."

Lily interrupted him, "What is it with the inherited family fighting! Why does it matter if your parents are fighting?"

Severus switched sides of the compartment and leaned on her shoulder. It was a comforting gesture and she adjusted to compensate for his weight. "The wizarding world is different."

Lily thought back to her parents, and the problems with her sister, "I think it's a human thing."

"No but, you'll see, the wizarding world is different," Severus sat up suddenly, "Lily you need to get into Slytherin, okay? Otherwise we won't be friends."

"You've told me this a billion times." Lily complained, putting her thumb nail into the space between her teeth. "I am going to get into Slytherin, don't worry."

"I don't know how they choose though. But you're good at magic! I've seen you perform really good magic before, but they might not test your magic."

"I've read all the school-mandated books. I've done a bunch of outside research. Slytherin is the house that is for those who are crafty with their magic, and I like the idea of potion-making, which is a Slytherin skill." Lily dug through her bag and held the gift from Severus's mother, proving it was still there. It was a clay caldron stirrer with her initials engraved on it. "Your mom has taught me plenty about potions."

"Hm," Severus sat back, his left hand rested on his knee. She reached out and grabbed it, feeling his fingers tighten and then release. He was so nervous about physical contact, she couldn't understand it. His mother was the same way, though, so he might have picked it up from her.

His hand was hot but not the least bit sweaty. Lily felt the ghost of James hand slip away and replace in her mind with Severus, comparing the two almost idly. It was an involuntary comparison and she flushed in response. She remembered the light kiss, and the flush deepened. A feeling dawned in her chest: it was shame, guilt, and something else. Was there a word for this feeling? She searched, but found none in her vocabulary. It felt both bad and good, like beating someone in a game that she had cheated at.

"Lily?"

"Yes?" His grip tightened.

"Now I'm nervous."

* * *

**Part two: Loyalties**

P.O.V. Severus

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* * *

**"It is not flesh and blood but the heart which makes us fathers and sons." -Johann Schiller**  
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* * *

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The corridor of the train exploded with what sounded like a blocked hex and Severus braced himself against the seat cushion. Lily's thin fingers slipped between his grip, looping around his thumb. He glanced over, sizing up her response. She gave him a tentative smile, looking more curious then worried.

"What was that?" She asked, flicking a stray piece of copper hair off her forehead.

"A hex." He wasn't sure, but he assumed it has been that James Potter and Sirius Black.

Sirius's family had alienated his mother from Wizarding society, just because she had married his father, who was a muggle. Of course, his father could have alienated himself, given a proper amount of time, but the actions of Sirius's family were inexcusable and undeniably cruel. Severus remembered the stuck up nose, and grim air of Sirius. The son had their bad blood: he hadn't liked his manner, or expression.

And Lily had been _kissed_ by that stupid, filthy, muggle-hater's friend.

How dare they try to trick her into being charmed by them? She could be so naive. For example, she thought her sister was mad at her for leaving. Actually, Petunia was jealous that Lily had better abilities: that Lily was special.

Severus scowled. Lily had been hurt by Petunia despite all that he had done to prevent it. He had been telling Lily since the moment they became friends that Petunia wasn't worth anything. But she always gave the same response, "she's my sister! I love her!"

Well, family didn't mean love. Severus knew that. He hated his father, and his father was biologically family. But, His father was a drunkard, abusive, and scum. While Petunia was a jealous, manipulative… Severus stopped his analysis to check on Lily again. She was still hurting, but showing no outward signs of it.

He felt so angry and helpless to know that she was hurting.

"Sev, I'm going to go around and meet some people," Lily announced, "Do you want to come… or?"

He shook his head, meeting new people was the least of his concerns. "Be careful."

She rolled her eyes, standing, "I'll be fine."

Time without her presence slowed almost to a halt, the scenery outside the train window blurred into a pattern of the greens and browns of autumn. Severus settled into thought, trying to recall all of his life before this point.

It had started in a fog of darkness and pain. The loneliness of being an only child in a broken home marked his early childhood. He remembered the occasional attention of his mother, between alcohol binges, her clean linen smell mixed with the pungency of vodka. His father was rarely home, and his arrival caused Severus intermittent fear and relief, for without his fathers small income it was unlikely that they would survive.

Up until Hogwarts, his most treasured memories were with Lily. She was small, bright, and warm. He smiled, considering her odd habit of closing her eyes and spinning with her finger pointing out in front of her. Wherever she was pointing when she stopped spinning is where they would go, meandering until night fell.

She had always been very social. In fact, wherever they went she would end up engaging a stranger in conversation. _"Uh excuse me sir!"_ She would shout, tugging on the shirt of an older man, _"It's very nice to meet you, do you know where a book store is?" _Maybe her parents had never warned her to stay away from strangers like Severus's mom had. Whenever she saw anyone crying she would inevitably walk over to them and offer words of comfort, giving them unasked for advice on how they could feel better. _"Ice-cream works!"_ Meanwhile Severus would stand back and watch, uncomfortable.

He would lecture her on it later, "Mom says you shouldn't talk to strangers!"

She would roll her eyes, "They're just like us."

"Some of them are dangerous," He informed her.

"Not her!" Lily would protest. "She was just sad."

She just didn't understand that there were bad people in the world. Severus knew, because his own father was the kind of dangerous person his mother warned him about. And he wasn't even a stranger.

The compartment door slammed open and five older looking wizards walked in. Severus looked up, surprised at the interruption. He gauged their expressions, not a single wizard was smiling.

"You're Madame Prince's child," Said the first, he was slim and blonde, with a thin flaring nose. "Severus Snape?"

"Yes?" Severus glanced around, feeling more and more nervous by the sheer size of the group. Maybe they had come here to beat him up. Marrying a muggle was a violence-provoking action for many purist wizards.

He winced as the wizard thrust his hand forward, "Malfoy, Lucius. Nice to meet you."

Severus took his hand and shook it, honored. The Malfoys were wizarding royalty, they weren't known for gossip but smart investing. Severus had no problems with the Malfoys. But, he was confused. How did Lucius know his mother, and what business did this group have in his compartment?

"Let me get directly to business," Lucius broke in, staring into his eyes with a sharp, interested look, "If you get into Slytherin we would like you to join our group. I have reason to think you will live up to the success of your mother in potions and we're always looking to involve more intelligent wizards with the right… background."

Severus blushed. He had never felt more flattered in his life; Lucius Malfoy wanted him to join his group. He stuttered a reply, "I would be very interested as well, but…" He remembered Sirius with hesitation, would other purists accept him? "You know my father…"

"Do you love your father?" Lucius asked keenly.

"I hate him," Severus growled.

"Then we're in agreement, if you get into Slytherin you are welcome to join."

It was only until they had left him alone in the compartment had he remembered Lily. How would she fit into their estimations? She was an obviously gifted witch, but she was muggle-born. Would they accept him if they knew how he felt about her?

He wouldn't want their "acceptance" if giving her up was the cost. It would be like giving up the light altogether, and embracing the dark.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five: Into the Castle

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Youth is a disease from which we all recover. ~Dorothy Fulheim

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P.O.V. Lily

After walking around the train, greeting people, Lily was ready to head back to severus and their compartment. She had met a couple first year girls she already liked. One of them was even muggle-born, just like her!

Her two new friends, (she felt sure they would become good friends), were named Alice and Ivy. Alice was a quiet girl with an expressive face. Her hair was waist length and divided into long sausage curls. It was a deep and shiny brown color. She was very agreeable, and though she said very little, she managed to come across as someone wholly likable and trustworthy.

Meanwhile the muggle-born one, named Ivy, was tall and gangly, with frizzly blond hair she blamed on a month in the Bahamas. Her parents had apparently paid for her to get her hair braided, and she hadn't bothered to unbraid it until she got home, yesterday.

She had been talking about the Bahamas trip for the last half hour, and Lily felt as if she had been there with her.

"I didn't want the braids, it's mama. She's always trying to get me to do weird things with my hair." Ivy complained, striding ahead of them with her long legs. "Parents can be so annoying!"

Alice agreed, "yeah."

Ivy smiled at her; they were clearly going to get along very well.

"Well your hair will be back to normal soon, I bet," Lily said, reaching out to touch it. She twirled a strand between her fingers, "It's so soft." Like Petunia's hair had been.

Ivy turned her smile to Lily, blushing at the compliment, "It's usually stick straight. I'll be surprised if it isn't back to normal by tonight!"

"Hey, you guys want to meet my best friend?" Lily asked. She had been away from the compartment for twenty minutes, and she was sure Severus would be worried.

"You already have a best friend here? You're muggle-born too, aren't you?" Ivy said. She stopped suddenly to hold onto a door handle as the train rattled around a corner.

"He's from my neighborhood."

"A boy!" Ivy poked Lily's shoulder. Her smile was the smile of an alligator as she continued, "You have a boyfriend?" Ivy was turning out to be a mercilous teaser, like Petunia. Lily shook the comparison away, scowling.

"No," Lily felt her cheeks warming up, and she blew into them with a closed mouth to conceal the blush, "he's my best friend. I don't like him or anything."

"So then, you already have a boy you like?" Ivy cooed. Lily decided to turn the tables.

"No! Why, you have a crush already?" Hah, Ivy would definitely drop the subject if she was the one being teased, that's what Petunia would have done.

But, surprisingly, Ivy looked unabashed as she responded, "Actually, yes! Don't tell anyone, okay?"

Alice and Lily both agreed to keep her secret, interested. They waited for Ivy to elaborate, but she would not continue if she wasn't prompted. She mimicked a taciturn reserve as she smirked silently.

"Who?" Lily asked, giving in.

"Sirius Black!"

"Really?" Lily tried to remember what Sirius had looked like, or acted like, to make him cool enough to have a crush on. But she could only remember James leaning over her hand, his lips brushing against her skin. Her stomach turned, and she tried to associate the sick response with an identifiable feeling. What was this? Did she have a crush on him? No! She didn't want to have a crush on anyone. That was too strange.

"Yeah, he's really cute!" Ivy rebutted, "Have you guys met him?"

"No," Alice rejoined, her face was small and thoughtful.

"I did. He was with his friend James Potter." Lily said. "He and his friend got in a fight with Sev after his friend kissed my hand."

After she said it, she felt embarrassed. Had that been too much information? Lily looked up, blushing, and sweating slightly. She hoped Ivy wouldn't take this information and tease her with it. She was less worried about Alice's reaction.

"I can't believe he kissed your hand!" Ivy's eyes were wide, "Did you tell him he could?"

"Um, no?"

"That's really rude," Alice said. Her eyebrows were arched and concerned.

Had it been rude? Lily thought about it. Maybe that's why Severus had been so angry, because he shouldn't have kiss her on the hand. She had never been kissed on the hand before, and it had made her feel really weird.

Suddenly, she was annoyed. How could he just walk in there and kiss her hand without asking? Ivy and Alice were right, it had been really rude.

"What did you think about Sirius, though?" Ivy asked, impatient.

Lily was careful in her response, she didn't want Ivy to think she had a crush on Sirius, too, "I remember that he was cute, but I didn't really pay attention to him, what with the fight and all."

Ivy smiled, her shoulders straightened, "He really is cute." She was proud to have a crush on a cute boy. It was as if having a crush on him meant that she was just as cute and crushable. Though, as Lily studied her, she had to agree that Ivy was cute enough for a guy to have a crush on, though she was very tall.

A couple girls at her elementary school had had boyfriends in fifth grade. One girl, Carolyn Jones, had even had a boyfriend in third grade, and everyone had talked about it. Lily had never had an interest in boys, but she had become aware that people around her were beginning to race towards adulthood at a speed she could not match. She was envious of Ivy's crush, and the potential for her new friend to have a boyfriend. A boyfriend of her own, a boy who liked her. What did that even mean?

Lily thought about this for a while, looking towards Alice, who appeared just as confused as she was. Alice was chewing her lip and squinting.

"Do you have a crush on anybody?" Lily asked her.

Alice shook her head.

"Lily?" Severus poked his head out of the compartment down the hall, "We're nearing the station soon."

Then he saw she was talking to her new friends and hastily ducked from sight.

"That's my friend Severus, he's really shy." Lily explained.

"Oh," Ivy frowned, "Well I guess we'll see you soon, unless you want to change in our compartment. It's weird to change in front of a boy."

Lily glanced backwards, through the empty hall to the compartment with her belongings. "Yeah, I'll get my stuff."

She explained the situation to Severus as she collected her bags, stuttering when she got to the part about not being able to change in front of a boy. Severus had never been a _boy_ to her before, and the change in their relationship seemed tangible enough to trip over as she explained it.

He blushed, "Well okay, I'll see you at sorting then."

"Yes! Definitely!" With renewed vigor, Lily turned to leave.

But, she stopped at the door, pausing as if some ghostly force was holding her there in time. She rotated her shoulders, and stared at Severus with the shock that accompanies an indefinable chasm between the past and future. Rarely had she felt anxious for something as small at this action, leaving the compartment. But she felt as if she was not only leaving Severus alone, but she was leaving a part of herself with him.

Was this growing up?

His expression was glum, and he watched the scenery from the window in a dream. He had already given her up for gone, and did not bother to meet her gaze.

She wanted him to look at her and smile, but he stared still, watching the window with that sad expression.

Breathing in, steadily facing forward, she left him behind. The compartment shut with a snap behind her, but she did not hear it over the whine of the train as it whirred around another bend in the track.

* * *

"What house do you want to be in?" Lily asked Alice as they helped Ivy unto the boat.

Severus had left in a boat ahead of them with a gaggle of boys he was talking too. Lily had never seen him talk to any other boys, and she was slightly suspicious. Was he purposefully taking a separate boat so that he didn't have to talk to her? Was he mad at her for joining her new friends in their compartment and leaving him behind?

Lily was so preoccupied that she didn't even notice that James Potter had joined their boat until they had sailed half the length of the lake.

When she did notice, she felt the annoyance from earlier reemerge. He better not kiss her hand again! But he didn't appear to want to. His smile was small, and his eyes followed a far off point in the distance. She turned to follow his line of sight.

"I want to be in Ravenclaw," Alice murmured.

Lily barely heard her response.

Bars of blue and white clouds broke across the face of the black castle stretching into a murky sky. This dark castle rose from the lake, framed by a forest of shadowed green. Lily raised her hands to her lips, smiling despite the chill of wind sweeping across the water.

"Wow!" Ivy chattered, rubbing her arms violently to keep warm, "I'm so excited!"

"Me too," Lily agreed, holding her arm up to eye level. The goosebumps and raised arm hair were enough to prove to her that a wizarding cloak was not going to be adequate enough to keep warm in the fall. She might have to unpack the winter cloak early.

"What house do you want to be in?" Alice asked.

"Slytherin." Lily said.

"What?" James, who had been so quiet, quiet enough to forget about, sat up straight and stared.

Alice, who knew about the house system, was accepting. Ivy, who knew nothing about the house system, was uncaring. James was visibly upset.

"What's wrong with that?" Lily asked, annoyed that he seemed so nonplussed about it.

"Slytherin is for bad wizards," James informed her, "Plus, there is no way they'd let in a muggle-born witch."

"How do you know I'm muggle-born?" Lily said, fast becoming annoyed. She had a short fuse, and his last couple statements had made her feel insulted.

"I just know," He said, sounding superior. He flicked his fingers through his hair, the way Sirius had earlier, and frowned. She noticed his glasses were no longer (red) but clear and square-framed. He was obviously trying to be cool, she could tell by his attitude alone. "Salazare Slytherin, the founder of Slytherin house, hated muggle-born wizards. There is no way the sorting hat would put you in Slytherin."

"Are you saying I'm not good enough for Slytherin house?"

Both Ivy and Alice were watching them with open mouths, though Ivy was smiling slightly.

"I'm saying that you could do better than Slytherin!" He messed with his hair again, as if the wind hadn't tousled it enough, "I bet you anything you're placed in Gryfindor. I'll be in Gryfindor too, of course. Gryfindor is for the brave wizards."

After it was settled in her mind that he was not intending to insult her, but to flatter her, she lost interest. She hadn't sized him up before, but now she had him pegged as a boy with a huge ego, and an even larger mouth.

Lily sat back on her elbows, "We'll see."

Her gaze drifted across the water to Severus, who was standing on the shore, watching the boats washing inland. He was still talking to those boys. If he heard James telling her she couldn't be in Slytherin, he'd be really mad. He'd reassure her that she was going to get into Slytherin.

Why hadn't they gotten on the boat together?

As they walked along the pathway to the castle James found Sirius and joined him at the front of the group. Lily eyed his back fretfully. He kept being rude, kissing her hand, telling her she wasn't good enough for slytherin. What was his deal anyway? Was he bullying her? She was angry at the thought.

"I think he likes you," Ivy said, jabbing her in the ribs.

"Ow," Lily pushed her back, less roughly, "why do you think that?"

"He ditched Sirius to be on our boat, for one thing, and he called you brave!" She waved at another first year girl who was talking to a large group of girls, her attention divided.

Alice spoke up, "I think he likes you, too, Lily."

Lily craned to see over the heads of her fellow first-years. Where was Severus? She wanted to talk to him about this new information. The annoying boy she didn't like had a crush on her. Severus should have been the first to know.

But he was still talking to those boys from earlier. Up close, Lily saw that they were not cute at all. One of them was fat and bug-eyed, with a glower. The other was sickly pale, with a light brown military hairstyle. She felt intimidated by the unfriendly aura they were projecting, and by the solid back that Severus was presenting to her. Why wasn't he turning to see where she was?

She was so distracted, and hurt, she didn't pay attention to the words of the giant man guiding them into a set of double doors below the castle, though his low, brittle voice hummed in the background of her thoughts.

Why was Severus mad at her? If she lost him too, she would be devastated. He was her best friend, her confidant, her past and present. Losing him would mean losing her childhood, cutting cords and moving into adolescence, alone.

His head turned and he noticed her, craning to see him. She waved.

He paused.

Then he waved back.

Though he didn't smile, and returned to the conversation with those strange boys, she felt better, happier. Even if he was mad at her, the fact that he waved meant there was hope to talk him out of it later. Ivy had floated over to another group of girls, and was rapidfire speculating about house placements. These girls were explaining all about the house system.

Alice had stayed behind, trained to her side. Lily looked down; her new friend was a head shorter than her. Alice smiled, "I'm really excited," she said, "I hope we're in the same house."

"That would be fun," Lily looped her arm through Alice's, watching their giant guide lead them across the path to a set of large doors where a woman stood waiting. "But even if we're not in the same house, we can hang out all the time outside of classes!"

"Yeah!" Alice flushed slightly, "I like you a lot, Lily. I hope we become good friends."

"I feel like we are already," Lily said. She felt kind of corny, but the smile on Alice's face made her happy she had said it. Alice and she were on the same wavelength, though the other girl was less verbose, and she really did feel as if they would become very good friends.

"Thank you Hagrid, I'll take it from here," the woman who had been waiting for them finally spoke up. She was middle-aged, with streaks of gray in her chestnut hair. Her face was smooth and her nose curved below the rims of her glasses. She reminded Lily of a portrait she had seen of Emily Bronte.

Lily dearly wished she was closer to the front of the group, because she couldn't hear the woman very well. As they were led inside, she pushed her way through the crowd, tugging Alice along with her, nudging them forward.

Then, they were inside. The entrance hall reminded her of the entrance hall to a museum, torches lighting the floor with pools of light. A massive staircase led upwards to a mysterious upper level.

"Hey Lily…" James said.

Lily tensed. She hadn't realized that she had moved up to the place next to him. She was about to move away when…

"Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," The woman began, "My name is Professor McGonagall. Please follow me." She turned on her heel and led them into a small side room.

Lily took this opportunity to move to the other side of Alice, so that James wouldn't talk to her. If he did like her, she didn't want to make him think she had a crush on him too. When they were all in the room, to her chagrin, she noticed that James had wormed his way next to her again. He tapped her on the shoulder to get her attention.

"Hey, do you know anything about the sorting hat?" He asked her.

"I think Professor McGonagall will explain it," Lily said, without facing him.

"I can tell you about it, if you'd like," He said.

"No thank you," she replied, still not facing him.

"The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history." James snorted, and whispered into her ear, _'There is nothing noble about the history of Slytherin, trust me.' _"While you are at Hogwarts, your success will earn your house points, while breaking the rules will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup. I wish each of you the best of luck in bringing your house points. The ceremony will take place in a couple minutes in front of the school, please make sure you are looking your best. I will return when we are ready for you, so please wait quietly*."

Professor McGonagall left the room.

"She didn't explain the sorting hat at all," James pointed out, sounding eager, "do you still want to know about it?"

"I do!" Ivy had returned, and she was eyeing Sirius, who stood silently at James's side inspecting his nails.

Lily crossed her arms. She was nervous for the sorting so talking about it would just make it worse. Why was Severus still talking to those boys? He should be over here, distracting her!

"It's a magical hat, charmed to think!" James began, lowering his voice. Was it Lily's imagination, or were people leaning closer? No, it wasn't her imagination. A couple first years had turned around and were listening openly. "It actually knows what is in your head, and it knows who you really are!"

"Wait, so the hat is smart like a wizard?" Ivy asked, intrigued.

"Yeah! Then it sorts you into the house that best fits your personality. If you're brave, and strong, you get into Gryffindor!" He sighed theatrically, "If you're clever you go to Ravenclaw, if you're friendly you go to Hufflepuff, and if you're SNEAKY you go to Slytherin." He wrinkled his nose.

"Sneaky and stupid," Sirius added.

"What if you're more than one of those things?" Alice squeaked. She was clearly intimidated by sheer amount of first years that had crowded around their conversation, listening.

"The hat knows which one of those qualities you have the most of, the biggest quality, and puts you in the proper house. That's why Lily is getting into Gryffindor."

"What do I have to do with this?" Lily blushed. She didn't like a bunch of people staring at her either.

She looked around to see if Severus had heard James, but he and his new friends were the only ones who hadn't been listening. They were standing in a corner, still talking.

"I'm just telling you what's going to happen," James turned to Sirius, "You'll get into Gryffindor too."

"What about me?" A tiny brunette stepped forward to be assessed.

But she would never find out, because just then the doors opened and Professor McGonagall walked in, "Form a line first years. Follow me."

Lily took great care to be sandwiched between Ivy and Alice in the line, just in case James started talking to her again in front of the whole school.

The Great Hall was full of students who Lily didn't dare look at. Instead, she took in the beauty of the hall itself. She had read _Hogwarts: a History_ so she knew the ceiling had been enchanted to look like the sky above it. But knowing something and seeing it were two different things. The clouds she had seen from the boat were floating above them, and the long, bulky tables, were laid out like a picnic set up for a crowd of guests beneath the stars.

The front table looked like a table lined with judges, but Lily guessed that these 'judges' were actually the professors.

Professor McGonagall put a stool and a hat in front of them and stared at it. It was a dirty, patched hat, not at all what Lily would have expected of a hat with such a reputation.

It began to sing:

"_You've heard about the sorting hat  
and I am surely he  
I'll look inside your souls and find  
the place where you should be.  
It does not matter where you're put  
but what you learn in school_

_It does not matter who you are  
whether sage or fool,  
For darkness lives outside these halls  
it tells no man apart  
you could be cowardly and dead,  
alive and brave of heart.  
When I choose your house today  
I'll choose between the four  
but you'll be choosing your own fate  
and making it mean more._

_Gryffindor for brave young souls,  
Ravenclaw for smart_

_Friendly Hufflepuff, sly Slytherin,  
But will you play the part?  
Ignore today as I define  
your most beloved trait  
and move beyond the labels as  
you work to make your fate."_

The sorting hat had given them advice. Lily tried to commit the words to memory, but her attempts were made useless by the distracting murmurs from the student body.

Sporadic applause came from the professors at the head table.

Professor McGonagall held out of a roll of parchment and cleared her throat. "Please step forward, put on the hat, and sit on the stool when I call your name… Ace, Ivy!"

Ivy strode forward, picked up the hat and fumbled (the only evidence of her nervousness). Then it was on her head and shouting, "Gryffindor!"

Ivy smiled at Lily, and then shifted her gaze to Sirius.

"Asworth, Jordon,"

"Hufflepuff!"

Lily made eye contact with Alice, who was mouthing, "oh no." Her last name was "Zales" so she was going to be called last.

"Black, Sirius."

Sirius strode forward, with the same easy confidence as Ivy. He stuffed the hat on his head. It sat there for a second. Lily noticed that although Sirius had walked over confidently, his face was green and his lips were white. "GRYFFINDOR."

There was no applause for him as he took his place at the Gryffindor table, just silence. James cheered happily from the sidelines, seemingly oblivious.

"Carthine, Catholine,"

"Ravenclaw!"

Only a few more names until she was called, Lily crossed her fingers. Slytherin. Slytherin. Please Slytherin. She didn't care if people called her sneaky, she just wanted to be with Severus.

"Evans, Lily!"

Shakily, she stepped towards the hat. She could hear James cheering for her. She grabbed the hat, it was coarse and light. Then, she put it on her head.

"Gryffindor," the hat said quietly.

"No! Slytherin!" she begged under her breath.

"You belong in GRYFFINDOR!"

Lily groaned. Good for nothing hat. She couldn't help slamming it back on the stool as she stomped away. Also, she couldn't bring herself look at either James or Severus as she made her way to the Gryffindor table. Ivy patted the seat next to hers, smiling.

"Too bad about Slytherin, but at least we're together!" She whispered encouragingly.

Maybe Severus would be put into Gryffindor! Then they could be together anyway. She began to pray softly.

James sat next to her at the table and poked her in the shoulder, "I told you so!" He said jubilantly, "I knew you were going to be put in Gryffindor."

"Good for you," Lily said.

Then Severus was being called to the hat. It sat on his head for a very long time, and Lily held her breath.

"SLYTHERIN!"

He wasn't smiling as he walked over to the Slytherin table, even though he really wanted to be in slytherin. Lily sighed, turning her head to the empty plate in front of her. This was a depressing start to her new life in the world of magic. Her sister and her best friend had been ripped from her by circumstances.

She turned quickly to see if Severus was looking at her, but he was facing the wall. She was getting tired of seeing his back.

Alice was the last to be sorted. She was sorted into Gryffindor and Lily moved towards Ivy so that Alice could fit between her and James. He wasn't happy about this, but she didn't care. She was sad and hungry, and didn't like him anyway.

She felt at odds with herself, she was used to being cheerful, but things were happening that she could not respond to with cheer. So she was left responding with sadness, and it didn't feel normal. Was this growing up, after all? If so, she'd gladly take childhood, if she had a choice.

Alice giggled as the headmaster stood. She nudged Lily and pointed at his hair. It looked like he had stuck his finger into an electric socket. Lily giggled too; relieved that she could still laugh after all.

"Welcome students! I am Professor Albus Dumbledore and I would like to say a few, short, words before we begin to eat." The students laughed a little, and Lily laughed too, though she didn't know what was funny, "First, Professor Sprout has planted a Whomping Willow on the school grounds. You must not aggravate this plant, as it is quite capable of self defense. Madame Pomfrey has requested me to warn all students that she will only treat the first broken back that occurs as the result of approaching this extremely volatile, but rare and beautiful, tree. Second, [Filch] has banned dueling in the hallways, so the dueling club will have to move to a classroom for their practices this year." A few students groaned, "Lastly, the ministry of magic has passed new legislation stipulating that only young witches and wizards who attend Hogwarts may use magic during the summer, so you might want to pass that along to your younger siblings. Now, let's eat!"

Lily blinked rapidly, staring at her plate. It was full of steaming food. What a wonderful bit of magic! Had they whisked in the food while everyone had been staring at the headmaster? No, this was real magic, not a trick. The food had sprung from the plate itself, and it smelled so delicious.

Lily poked at the mashed potatoes under her nose, and breathed in.

Then she turned again to look at Severus. This time she saw his eyes. He was staring back. She smiled, waving slightly.

He lifted his hand and gave a wave, smiling too.

Suddenly Lily felt like crying, but it wasn't because she was miserable anymore. It was because she had hope that everything would turn out okay; she was far from losing her best friend. Maybe there was hope for her and Petunia too.

Lily turned back to her food, clenching her fists. She wasn't going to give up!

* * *

-**Review Responses**-

SecretlyAGryffindor- Thank you very much! I will try to update asap! The thing with James's hair I will investigate and alter if you are correct :] I hope I get to go through the seven years, though I really just want to skip ahead to the romance bit towards the end... However, I've been waiting a really long time to write this story so maybe I should tend to every detail... Anyway, thanks for the review!

Snuffles- I have read all the books many times, but I haven't read the 7th in half a year. I'm sorry if I got some of the details wrong, I will reread those chapters pertinent and hopefully figure out which parts I have gotten wrong. It's really important to me to be as accurate to the books as possible, so I'm glad you brought the discrepancies to my attention. Thank you :]

Da Bouman- Thanks! I updated this chapter because of your review!


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